


My Gang Tattoos

by Ignats23



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: American Student, Exchange Program, F/M, Good Slytherins, Gryffindor, Gryffindor/Slytherin Inter-House Relationships, Tattoos
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-08-01
Updated: 2018-08-07
Packaged: 2019-06-19 22:55:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,124
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15520500
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ignats23/pseuds/Ignats23
Summary: Is everybody right about the about the American Slytherin student with the gang tattoos? Brianna is an American exchange students from one of the poorest neighborhoods on Chicago's South Side. Timothy has lived in both America and England is from a rich family. What happens when they meet? Will it be more of the same feud between Slytherin and Gryffindor?*Currently being transferred and restyled from my FanFiction account*





	1. Chapter 1

I guess I was never a “normal” Hogwarts student. For one I wasn’t British. I was from the South Side of Chicago. MACUSA and the British Ministry of Magic had an arrangement for kind of a student exchange program. One of their students would go to Ilvermony and one kid from here would go to Hogwarts. The only requirement is that the students had to be from poor families with little to no financial means to pay for anything. Our government did a kind of lottery to choose who would go to Hogwarts and I got picked. Every year a MACUSA official would come to my house and we would Apparate onto Platform 9 ¾ . I would then make the normal trip by the Hogwarts Express. I had to stay at Hogwarts during the holidays but my mom was constantly sending me letters and pictures of my siblings. All, of my schoolbooks and everything were paid for by MACUSA and I was given a stipend because I was going to school so far away from home. I was a Muggle-born, the only one in my family who had shown any magical ability. I assumed that my dad wasn’t a wizard but I didn’t know. He was barely around when I was growing up so my mom raised me, my older brother, and my younger twin brother and sister, all by herself. Even though I had just turned eleven I had already gotten gang tattoos. Every time I came home I would run with my old gang, maybe get another tattoo, but it just wasn’t my thing anymore. I guess my gang tattoos confirmed everything everybody thought about me, I was an ‘uncivilized’ American who had been sorted into Slytherin for the right reasons. But there was one inconsistency in what they thought. They could imagine a Slytherin American gangbanger being a guy but I was a girl. People thought I should be different, girly even. All I was interested was getting good grades so I could get a good job and help make a better life for my family. I was a sixth year now, I had turned 16 last spring. When my O.W.L. scores had come in it had shown that I had gotten Outstandings in Wizarding Literature, Defense Against the Dark Arts, and Potions, and Exceed Expectations in everything else. I was taking a full course load but had no extracurriculars.

 

This year was a little different than previous years. Just like other years when we got to the platform I pulled my trunk to a compartment at the end of the train. I pulled my robes and money bag out of my trunk and then pushed my trunk into one of the luggage racks. I shut the compartment door and flopped down into the seat next to the window. When other students passed by and looked like they wanted to come in I shot them a venomous and moved to show them a better view of my tattoos. All of a sudden a boy who looked about my age with a Gryffindor emblem on his trunk completely ignored what I was doing and tossed his trunk up into the luggage rack. He flopped down into the seat across from me. 

“What the heck are you doing?” I asked harshly (I only cuss when hanging around with my friends). 

“I wanted to. You don’t seem like you have that many friends.” he answered with none of the same venom. 

“How would you know?” I fired back with even more venom. 

He laughed as he responded, “I’ve been in your classes for the last five years. I passed you in the halls. I was in the library when you were studying.” 

I crossed my legs up on the seat and when I replied with more curiosity and amusement than venom, “You’ve been watching me?” 

“Yeah, you’re interesting. Everybody thinks that you are just some punk-ass kid but I can see that you are really dedicated to your schooling. Every moment you’re not in class you’re in the library studying.” 

I was speechless for just a minute and then tried to respond, “ You’ve really been paying attention to me haven’t you? I’m sorry but I don’t really notice my classmates, what’s your name again?” 

He held out his hand to me, “Timothy Julian,Gryffindor fifth year.” 


	2. Chapter 2

The first thing out of my mouth was, “Do I have to call you Timothy?” 

He laughed. “No. I hate the name. Just call me Tim which is just slightly better. How about you, what should I call you?” 

“My full name is Briana but just call me Bri. Why would you, a Gryffindor, be talking to me, a Slytherin outcast?” 

“Maybe I just hate all of the Gryffindors my age and you seem interesting.” 

“I doubt that I would be more interesting than them.” 

“Trust me you are. All they talk about is Quidditch and places they go in the castle to hook up. All that matters to me is getting good N.E.W.T.s.” 

Just then the trolley witch passed by. I pulled money out and bought some cauldron cakes and chocolate frogs. Tim bought pumpkin pasties and chocolate frogs. I hadn’t realized how short the first part of the train ride had seemed. Normally, the train ride seemed to take forever but this one was flying by. We settled back into our seats. 

I asked the question that had bugging me since he had started talking, “Your accent sounds more American than British. Why is that?” 

He laughed and shook his head, “My family moved to the United States when I was just over a year old and stayed there until right after my tenth birthday mostly so that I could go to Hogwarts. My dad’s parents are dead so for all holidays my parents go to the US so I stay here. We also spend half of the summer out there. Now that I’ve told you about me how about you tell me about you?” 

“Well I live in one of the worst neighborhoods on the South Side of Chicago. My mom basically raised me and my siblings by herself. I stay at Hogwarts during the holidays and only get to go home over the summer.” Most people when they heard my story apologized for how hard my life was or asked if I had shot anyone which was what made the question he asked next so strange. 

“What are your siblings names?” I looked at him quizzically and he looked back. 

“Has the first question not ever been that?” I think the look I was giving him told all. 

“Oh. Is that something I’m not supposed to ask?” 

I smiled and shook my head a little bit, “No one ever asks me that which makes it odd but kind of nice. My older brother is Austin and my younger twin siblings are Luke and Amanda. What about you? Do you have any siblings?” 

“I wish. I’m an only child which made for a fairly lonely childhood.” I glanced out the window and realized it was starting to get dark and we were getting close to Hogwarts. 

I poked him with my boot toe, “We need to get into our robes. We’re almost to the castle.” He reached up into his trunk to get his robes and we both pulled them on. It was weird to see the scarlet and gold right next to the emerald and silver.

 

When the train finally screeched to a stop I got off the train and headed toward the carriages. Tim walked next to me and we were able to get a carriage all to ourselves. 

I could hear Hagrid, “First-years over here! Watch yourself! First-years! Over here please!” I smiled a little bit to myself. Hagrid had helped me through a lot of stuff over the past years. He understood what it meant to be an outcast. If I wanted to get out of the library to study I most of the time would go to his hut. 

Tim yelled, “Duck!” and placed his hand on my back forcing me down. All of a sudden a firework wizzed right over us. We both leaned up and looked at each other saying at the exact same time, “Peeves.” 

It was Peeves’ tradition to set off fireworks on the day we all got to school in both honor of the fireworks show the Weasley twins set off when they left Hogwarts and in honor of Fred Weasley who died in the Battle of Hogwarts. The administration couldn’t really control Peeves but this was one thing they weren’t actively trying to stop. When we got to the castle we hurried inside before we had anymore close encounters with fireworks. Once inside the Great Hall we had to split and go to opposite sides of the hall to our respective house tables. He sat down first and placed himself on the side of the table that would let him see the Slytherin table. I sat down with my year at the Slytherin table so I could face the Gryffindor table. When I sat down everyone stopped talking and moved away from me. I ignored the movement and turned to face the front of the Great Hall as the doors opened and the first-years began to file in. The Sorting Ceremony had begun for this year. I remembered my own ceremony, everyone’s eyes had been wide when my robe sleeves had slid up to show the few tattoos that I had then. My shoulder-length brown hair had streaks of pink in it at the time (it had green streaks in it now and it was waist long and normally in a ponytail or braid). I remember the fear of when the voice started talking to me. 

The best part about that though was when the Sorting Ceremony was over and the food appeared on the tables. We never went to bed without some sort of food but that didn’t mean we went to bed not hungry. Mom would often give up her food so that we would have enough to eat so Austin and I would normally give up part of our meals to her so she would have at least something to eat. All of the food I could eat but the best part was the dish right in front of me. It was Chicago-style pan pizza which I loved but had only been able to have a few times before then. Most dinners it still showed up in front of me but I had come to love a lot of the more British food that the kitchen dished up. It was my tradition still though for the first and last suppers of the semester for me to have the pizza. By the time I came out of my memories the ceremony had ended and so had the Headmaster’s speech. 

The food appeared on the table and I immediately reached for the pizza. I looked up and saw Tim motioning and mouthing words from the Gryffindor table. Over the last five years they had added the pizza to the rest of the Slytherin table and to the other tables. 

Tim was pointing to the pizza on the table on front of him and was mouthing, “Is it good?”. 

I mouthed back, “Excellent”. He reached eagerly for it and acted like he was moaning when he took his first bite. I laughed to myself and shook my head then reached for my own pizza. It was amazing, just like it always was. I was one of the few students who not just knew where the kitchens where but was friends with the house-elves who worked there. I would sometimes offer suggestions on how to not just make American dishes but how to make them better. 

Whenever I felt really homesick I would go down there and they would make me up something to remind me of home. Desserts showed up on the table and I think I ate about a dozen chocolate chip cookies. At the end of the Feast I got up and followed the other Slytherin students to the dungeons. 

I headed to the girls dorm and went to the room I shared with the other sixth-year girls. When I got in there the other four girls had already arrived. When I went to start unpacking they shot me scared glances like I was going to pull a gun out of trunk, the same glance they had shot me every arrival day for the last five, now six years, since I had come to Hogwarts. I chuckled a little, changed into my pajamas, and went to bed. 


End file.
